


No Fear

by neaf



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:58:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neaf/pseuds/neaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren is terrified of getting slushied. Chris helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Written prior to the episode Michael, for obvious reasons.

"Are you really that scared of it?"  
  
Darren shifted uncomfortably at the question, reclining on the couch in Chris's trailer. He did his best to shrug it off. "No, no, not really. No, I mean," he waved his hands, wincing at just how unconvincing his voice sounded. "I… No?"  
  
Chris's brow shot up, and a slightly evil smile lifted the corner of his mouth. "Would you like to try that again?"  
  
Darren laughed, tipping his head forward in defeat. "Okay, fine," he folded his arms tight across his chest, still gesturing out the side with his hand. "I don't do extreme cold, I do heat. I'm a … heat kinda guy."  
  
Chris loved it when Darren got awkward and bumbled over his words, it usually meant Chris was winning. Or maybe that was just fallout from the tour. "Uhuh."  
  
"Any pointers for a first timer?" Darren asked mockingly.  
  
Chris had wandered to the kitchenette, but paused at the question. "Eyes closed," he instructed. "Try to shut them when you see the arm lift. If you get Max you're fine, his aim is spectacular, but if you get an extra be prepared for it to go up your nose."  
  
"Are you kidding me?" Darren moved up to kneel on the couch, and perched both elbows on the arm. "You should've seen his face when he found out I was getting hit, it was positively fucking evil with delight. The man looked like a Disney villain. Anybody _but_ Max would do me fine."  
  
Chris was laughing now, crouching down behind the bench and out of sight.  
  
After a moment of silence, Darren narrowed his eyes with an amused smile. "Where did you go?"  
  
"Testing a theory," Chris's disembodied voice answered back a few moments before he reappeared. "Sit back, close your eyes."  
  
"Oh, god no. I never ever trust those words together," Darren said. "Especially coming from you."  
  
Chris quirked an eyebrow. "Do you want help or not?"  
  
"If it involves hitting me with an ice-based beverage, I'm thinking not."  
  
"It doesn't," Chris countered. "Now will you shut up and close your eyes?"  
  
With a tentative, deep breath, Darren resigned himself to his fate and let his eyes drift closed. A nervous smile played at his lips as he heard Chris move around and felt the couch dip as he sat down next to him.  
  
"Alright," Chris's voice was barely above a whisper. "You'd be surprised how the sensation hits in specific points, rather than all over," he said. "So it's basically just this."  
  
Darren felt an immediate, incredible cold press to his cheekbone and jolted slightly, arms gripping the couch. "Wh-what are you d-?"  
  
"Eyes closed," Chris instructed, and Darren obeyed. "It's just an ice cube. But that wasn't so bad?"  
  
"No," Darren answered, chuckling. "No, okay. That's not so - _fuck_!"  
  
Chris had pressed the icecube to his forehead, and trailed it down to the bridge of his nose.  
  
"You cannot be this big a wuss, seriously," Chris said dryly.  
  
Darren's grin was still insanely broad, and his eyes were still closed. "I'm not, I just. It's a shock, okay? It's really fucking cold."  
  
"It's ice, Darren, I'm pretty sure cold is a prerequisite."  
  
Darren’s mouth settled into a tolerant, amused smile. “Fine. I get it now,” he said gently, feeling the ice trail down the line of his nose slowly. “It’s - okay, it’s actually not that bad.”  
  
"Mm-hmm," was all he heard in response. The wet trail left on his skin tingled, half-numb. He felt the smooth edge of ice trace over his lips very slowly, and his breath caught in his lungs. Gently, he let his mouth fall open and nipped at a finger.  
  
Chris smiled at the feeling, and his eyes focused on a drop of water that was racing across Darren's jaw, and now down his neck. His heart sped up, and his body was moving before he could stop it, straddling Darren's lap and pressing his lips to the bead of water before it reached Darren's collarbone.  
  
Darren let out a tiny grunt in approval, hands shooting straight to Chris's hips as he rocked down on top of him. Darren lay back, dazed and breathless under Chris's mouth and hands.  
  
He gripped tighter, moving with Chris until his fingers hit a sharp buckle, and he was suddenly all too aware of the earful they'd get if they ruined another one of Kurt's costumes. "Your wardrobe," he mumbled.  
  
"Fuck wardrobe," Chris managed between biting kisses across Darren's jaw.  
  
"Ungh," Darren couldn't form words anymore as Chris rocked against him in his lap.  
  
They kissed fiercely, hands fumbling blindly for buttons and zippers as usual while they pressed into each other desperately on the couch, the ice cube long melted away. "Can I-" he tried between kisses. "Can I open my eyes now?"  
  
He felt two strong, broad hands on his shoulders press him back roughly into the couch, and Chris's breath ghosting across his lips. He could almost hear the smile.  
  
" _No._ "


End file.
